Carry You Home
by kentuckyderby12
Summary: AU Dean comes to Stanford to tell Sam of their father's death. They both deal with the abuse from the man as well as his death.
1. Chapter 1

"It's late." Sam says with a happy sigh as Jess continues to nip at his neck.

"What are you suddenly immune to my wiles?" Jess said purring against his neck. They stop in front of their apartment Sam's hands are fumbling with the keys.

"You know I enjoy this. But, you have class at eight a.m. tomorrow. And you'll find a way to turn it into my fault if you stay up all night doing... me." Sam says smiling to himself. Still fumbling with the keys because Jess is doing that thing with her tongue that is just unfair. They both jump a little when they hear movement in their apartment. Sam fills with a panicked calm. He gently pushes Jess behind him and tries the doorknob of their apartment. He is unsurprised to find it unlocked.

"Stay here. Run if I say so." Jess nods, stepping back and holding her breath. Sam creeps quickly and silently into his own apartment. The lights are all out. Which gives him the advantage. He knows where all of his furniture is even in the dark. His eyes sweep the room. It's ingrained in his brain and he spots the intruder. He quickly assess that he has a couple of inches on the man but, unable to tell age or musculature in this light. The man nears the kitchen. Where they have all sorts of makeshift weapons. Sam panics and rushes the man with a well-placed punch to the back of the head. Sam is shocked at how quickly the man recovers and stomps on Sam's foot. Sam backs up instinctively and the man sweeps his legs out from under him. Sam can feel the wind knocked out of him as he lands with a thud. Then man climbs on top of him with his hands dangerously close to a strangling position on his neck.

"That was so easy I almost feel bad for you Sammy." The man smiles. Sam recognizes the shit-eating-grin he can now see with his eyes adjusting to the dark. Sam doesn't wait he head-butts the man and flips him. Sam uses his slightly longer limbs to his advantage as he pins the man.

"Not that easy." Sam smirks as he stands up. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find a beer." The man holds out a hand and Sam grabs it using little of his own strength to pull the man up. Sam switches the light on. "Great to see you too Sam. How's things?" The sarcasm laid thick with his gravelly voice.

"Well, what kind of welcome party were you expecting to get breaking into my place?" Sam notices Jess standing precariously in the doorway. Sam motions for her to come inside and she does incredibly fearfully and slowly.

"Wouldnt've had to break in if you would've returned a damn phone call." The man slightly relishes the guilty look on Sam's face.

"Sorry, I changed my number." Sam sighs and leans against his kitchen counter. "Doesn't mean you can just break in."

"Just cause I broke in doesn't mean you can forget your manners." The man says more to the beauty in front of him than Sam. "Hi, Dean Winchester." He extends a hand to the blonde in the Smurfette t-shirt. _God do I love the smurfs._

"Dean? As in your brother?" Jess is speaking more to Sam then Dean. When she sees Sam give a tiny nod she turns and takes Dean's hand. "Hi, I'm Jess. I'm Sam's girlfriend. God he talks about you all the time."

"Only good things I hope." Dean's charming smile working overtime.

"What are you doing here Dean?" Sam says with a gentle sigh.

"I've got family business. So if you don't mind..." Dean smiles at Jess.

"Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of her too." Sam's getting agitated.

"It's okay. I have an early class tomorrow anyway. I'll just go get ready for bed." She quietly mouths _'be nice'_ to Sam. She leaves and the tension is so much more obvious now. Dean goes and sits at the kitchen table like he owns the place. _Cause Dean always does that._

"So, any beer?" Dean kicks out another chair at the table for Sam. Sam remains standing.

"We don't keep any in the house." Sam's reply is curt. "So, what's the big important news. Do I need to chip in for his bail? Or is it your bail this time?"

"Aw, haven't you heard Sammy. I've gone straight. Got a job as a mechanic and everything." Sam hides his smile effectively and Dean keeps talking. His voice is softer now. "IT's about Dad."

"What does he want to see me. Cause I have nothing to say to the man." Sam's raising his voice slightly.

"Sam." Dean calls it like it's a warning.

"You know Dean I can't even believe you'd come here for him. You know I don't want to see him. You better not have told him where I live cause I'd really hate to move." Sam's full on yelling now.

"Sam." Dean's yelling too now, but just to grab Sam's attention.

"No, Dean. You are delusional for staying anywhere near the man. Why do you think I changed my number and dropped off the face of the earth the day I turned eighteen-"

"Sam!" Dean pounds his fist into the table. His voice towers over the two of them. "Dad's dead."

"Oh."


	2. Chapter 2

"So, how bout we get some of that beer?" Dean's being gentle now. He didn't mean to upset Sam by yelling out the news. But, Sam wasn't letting him get a word in.

"Yeah," Sam says. Only he's pretty sure he didn't say it. He's pretty sure he can't talk if his whole face is numb.

The next few moves are on auto-pilot. "No bars." Sam says. Dean doesn't really want to be surrounded by a bunch of drunk college kids anyways so he agrees. They go to a twenty-four hour liquor store and pick up two six packs of some Mexican beer and a fifth of dark spiced rum. Sam's just following him the whole time. Like he did when he was little and afraid and now Dean's starting to get worried. They go back to Sam's apartment. "Jess..." Sam says quietly insisting that they don't go in. So they go back outside and the sit on the hood of Dean's baby. Sam stretches out his limbs on the old black car and just stares into nothing. And it's not like Dean really wants to have a heart-to-heart. But, it's not like he can leave his baby brother all catatonic either. He opens the rum first and takes a swig. _Liquid courage._He thinks smiling to himself. He hands the bottle to Sam.

"Here, it'll make everything suck less." Sam grabs the bottle and drinks without thinking. Trying very hard not to have the deja vu of this exact moment from when he was thirteen.

_Dean hands him a paper cup of an amber liquid. Nervously looking at the bathroom door. Counting the seconds it takes the drunk man inside to take a leak. "Here, I think you'll be alight tonight. But, just in case... It'll make everything suck less." _Sam drank then automatically too. Body and mind to conditioned between the fear of his father and the love of his brother to do anything but obey Dean's every command. Sam coughs and sputters as the rum burns his throat bringing him back to reality. Dean laughs at him hollowly. And hands him an open beer with one hand taking away the rum with another. They wait in silence each hoping the other will say something first.

"So, how did he die?" Sam gives in. "Angry husband catch him with their wife? Or did the law finally catch up with him?"

"Liver cirrhosis." Dean says slowly peeling the label off of his beer.

"That's fitting." Now it's Sam's turn to laugh. "When's the funeral?"

"No service. Bobby said we were probably the only people who really knew what Dad was really like. Well, us and the people he scammed. But, I don't really see them pouring out a shot for him." He drops the label to the ground beneath him. "He was already cremated. Hell, I wasn't even gonna bother you but Bobby said I had to ask and see if you wanted any of his ashes."

"You still talk to Uncle Bobby?" Sam doesn't answer the question he wasn't asked.

"Yeah, he's the one who got me the mechanics job. I'm in butt-fuck nowhere New Mexico. Rebuilding classics though. Just like my baby." Dean pats the Impala lightly.

"You're really done scamming?" Sam asks shifting on the hood to catch a better view of the man in front of him.

"Yeah, I was done when I left Dad four years ago." Sam settles back into his old position. And contemplates the meaning of that sentence. Dean always said he didn't stay to protect Sam. But, he left just after Sam did. Sam feels the horrible weight on his shoulders return. Dean glances back at him. Like he know what Sam's thinking. "I left cause he put me in the hospital. And Bobby came up there and forced me to leave. I stuck around so long for a lot of reasons Sam."

"What'd he do to you?" Sam asks the weight not alleviating any time soon.

"Used the pipe on me... again." Dean's talking so quietly Sam has to strain to hear him. He closes his eyes and tries to think about anything other than the last time Dad used to pipe on Dean. Sam quickly downs the beer he's holding and Dean silently hands Sam the rum and another open beer. They're quiet for a long time. The silence is less uncomfortable this time and more stoic.

"So, how you doin up here Collegeboy?" Dean tries for a lighter subject. Sam smiles at the new direction. 'Diversion' Jess would say and quote her psych textbooks. But, hell sometimes you need a diversion.

"I'm doing real good. I got Jess, and friends, and a job as a teaching assistant, and I work at a food truck." Dean snorts at that. "I got a 175 on my LSATS."

"Is that like good or something?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, or something." Sam's smirk fades a little remembering Dean didn't even graduate high school. But, he talks about his possible full ride to law school.  
And they talk like that for a while. Catching up on everything. Sam talks about how Jess is a psych major and is always annoying her friends by diagnosing them with things. Dean talks about the T-Bird he rebuilt two weeks ago that was so beautiful you almost didn't want to drive it. _Almost._Dean fills him in on Bobby and how everyone in New Mexico has been to Roswell. Which is stupid. "Sam, if aliens were gonna land here. Why the hell would they go to Roswell? Do you know what's in Roswell? Dirt." Dean even talks about this Lisa chick he's been seeing on and off for a while. They laugh at their dumb jokes and drink. Four beers and a third of the rum later for Sam and six beers and the rest of the rum later for Dean. They're both feeling a little drunk. Sam more than Dean proving that Dean's experience with alcohol has made him handle more than Sam's larger mass.

"You drunk yet?" Sam asks. He goes from smiling to frowning to smiling again.

"A little, I think I can handle my liquor better than you." Dean smiles to himself as Sam's face tries to figure out what emotion he wants to portray.

"You always drink this much?" It's more of a statement than a question. So Dean doesn't feel the need to answer. "That's no good Deano. Alcoholism runs in the family." Dean shakes his head and grunts in response Sam attempts to sit up. He grabs Dean shoulder half out of comfort half out of not wanting to face plant on the parking lot. They sit there for a few. "Have you gotten any help Dean?" Sam says it quiet. Trying real hard not to slur his words.

"Well, Dad had some money saved up that we used. And Bobby chipped in a hundred bucks. So it was maybe $240 for the rest of the cremation." Dean is a little drunk right now cause he can't quite remember the last thing they were talking about. "Don't worry geekboy. I'm not asking for any of your money. I assume it all goes towards pencils or something."

"No, no." Sam can't help but smile. "I mean have you talked to anybody about Dad?"

"Like the cops? No, I guess maybe I should. Just so they know not to look for him anymore. But, I gotta remember to do it in a state that I don't have a warrant in." Dean turns to Sam grabs him by the elbow to help him off the car.

"No, Dean like a professional. You know to help you deal with everything that happened. When we were kids." Dean stops he looks like he's so angry he could hit Sam. He settles for gripping Sam's forearm much too tightly.

"I'm not nuts Sam. I don't need a shrink. I already told you I had a lot of different reasons for staying so long. I'm not screwed up you know. I didn't enjoy it." The venom in Dean's voice forces Sam to back up a bit. Well, as much as he can with Dean's death-grip on his elbow.

"No, no, no, no. Dean that's not what I meant. Hell, I see a shrink." Sam's drunken mind is racing between soothing his brother and showering himself in dredged up guilt.

"Sam, _you're_coockoo for cocopuffs?" Dean laughs. Sam laughs a little too.

"You should try it. I'm a lot better now." Sam insists it. Staring off into the night instead of at his brother. 'Better?' Dean mumbles. But, it's not a real question so Sam doesn't answer.

"I'm all good Sam. Don't need a straight jacket or nothin." Dean says. Lightly letting up on his grip of his brothers arm. But, not letting it go. Because, he's pretty sure Sam would fall over.

"Well, how long are you here for? Cause my next appointment is Wednesday and maybe you could come and talk about Dad's death with me." Sam is trying for puppy dog eyes. But, this drunk he thinks it might come off as hitting on Dean. Doesn't matter. Because, Dean isn't looking at him anyways.

"Don't know. I only really drove out here yesterday. And work said to take off as much time as I want..." Dean finally meets his brother's gaze. And he hates himself for it. He knew that he was going to give him _that_ look. Dean feels himself caving. _Sucker._ "Alright. I'll go. But, we only talk about _you_ and _your_shit."

"Thanks Deano." Sam gives him a giant bear hug. Which damn near knocks them both off balance. "You stayin on my futon tonight?" Dean grumbles something about being the oldest and deserving a real bed. But, he lets it go as he basically has to push Sam up the stairs to his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning mentions of Suicide.**

Sam groans. His head is mildly helped by the cold porcelain of the toilet. But, it is definitely not going to be helped now that Jess has come into the bathroom.

"Really, Sam. Drinking? I thought you had just as much of a problem with it as I did." Sam's pretty sure Jess' voice has been fine-tuned by the Gods to split his head in two. "Maybe, your brother really is a bad influence. Just what did he say that made going out and getting drunk so appealing? Did he need your help in one last long con or something?"

"He said that Dad died." There's a long pause as Sam contemplates weather the saliva building in his mouth means that he has to hurl again. It does.

"Good." Sam stares at her. "No, Sam after all he's done to you. I'm glad." This time Sam tries to stand and walk away. _Of course she doesn't understand, hell you barely understand._ Sam is back on his knees and dry heaving into the middle of the room. "Shit, Sam I'm sorry. I know this has to be hard for you Sam. You must be feeling really conflicted" _Leave it to Jess to psychoanalyze._"Have you called your therapist yet?"

"Not yet." Sam is slowly trying to compose himself.

"Here, I'll call for you. I'll call your professors for you too. Should I call Tony?"

"Yeah, if you could. Tell Claudia I'm gonna have Dean come to therapy with me Wednesday. And don't call Tony. Live Dad or dead Dad rent is still due." Sam gives up and just slumps against the bathroom wall. "But, call them after your class. Don't make yourself late on my account."

"Sam, it's close to noon. My class has been over with for a while." She leaves to make the call. Awkwardly passing Dean on her way out of the bathroom.

"I have slept on a lot of shitty motel beds in my time. And I mean a lot. And your futon should be labeled a torture device." He walks over and nudges Sam towards the door with his foot. "Get out of here I gotta piss." Sam just groans not moving from his spot. Dean shrugs and turns around to pee. He notices the toilet seat already up. "Really dude. You hold your liquor like a girl. That is not the man I raised."

"That was the first time I drank in three years, Dean." Sam can actually gather to his feet now.

"Really? I figured in college you'd be partying it up?" Dean flushes and helps Sam leave the bathroom. Gently shoving Sam onto the torture device Dean had spent the night on.

"Well, you get to college by actually doing homework Dean. You stay there by continuing to do homework." Dean stands and heads back to the bathroom opening the medicine cabinet.

"Really genius I would've never guessed. But, seriously you never take a load off with a beer or anything?" He throws Sam a bottle of Tylenol. Even hung over Sam's reflexes take over and he catches it.

"Alcoholism runs in our family. And in Jess' she doesn't really like having booze around." Sam takes two pills dry. "Her Dad just got his twelfth year of sobriety under his belt. Unfortunately not long enough to make her forget about the four years when he was a drunken bastard."

"Her Dad like ours?" Dean has suddenly become very interested in the coffee table.

"No, thank God. Just an ass." Dean begins to fiddle with the remote.

"But, it never bothered you when you were younger." He opts to take the batteries out for no apparent reason.

"Guess, I had a reason to drink when I was younger." Dean sets the remote down on the table and gets up to stare at the photo-collages lining a few of the walls. He notices one set of pictures in particular. Sam with some friends and a huge bottle rocket. There's scientificy portions to the collage like close-ups of the altimeter and such. But, Dean can't get over how childishly excited Sam looks in all of the pictures.

"That thing went two vertical football fields high." Sam states seeing what peeks the older man's interest.

"Hey do you remember fourth of July that one year? When we bought all those illegal fireworks and set them off in the field by that high school." Sam'smiling just like in the pictures. "And we had to get the smell of gunpowder out of our clothes before Dad found out."

"And we couldn't find a laundry mat so you decided to wash our clothes in the tub at the motel. You flooded the damn room." Sam snorts a little at the memory.

"It was your idea to wash the clothes in the tub. I only took the fall for you with the hotel manager." Dean's face is in mock anger. "I ended up being the maid's bitch for the rest of the stay."

"Come on Dean it's not that bad."

"Says you. She didn't speak any English, I had no idea what she was telling me to do half of the time." Dean goes to sit back down on the couch. Setting his feet on the coffee table.

"Bet, you know a lot more Spanish now though. Living in New Mexico and all." Sam joins him.

"Yeah, _la cama._Means bed." He elbows Sam suggestively.

"Nice." Sam's laying on the sarcasm thick.

"Your professors say you have the next two weeks off. And Claudia said she's gonna double your time with her to encompass Dean."Jess states walking into the room. Sam quickly takes his feet off the table and shoves Dean's feet down as well.

"Who's Claudia your personal escort? Cause I'm touched man, but I don't take your sloppy seconds. Nor do I do brother's threesomes."

"Gross." She gives Dean a dirty look for the joke. She catches Sam's eye and sees what he is trying to tell her. "I'm gonna head out. There are some people I wanna see before I go to work. Call me if you need anything Sam." Her tone gentle and soft with him. He smiles sadly at her. She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and leaves.

"Claudia is... my therapist." Sam holds his breath waiting for his brother's reaction.

"I thought you forgot about that." Dean groans. Wishing for not the first time that Sam was the kind of drunk to get blackouts.

"Well, I didn't. You're still coming with me right?" Sam knew this would happen. One little push to get Dean to open up. To heal. But, of course, it would be pulling teeth.

"I don't know, Sam. Therapy?" Dean rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You promised!" Sam sounded like he was ten again.

"I know but, what are we even gonna talk about?" He's not looking at Sam anymore. He's staring out the window, vacantly.

"Our childhood." Dean shifts with renewed energy.

"See Sam. That's exactly why I don't want to go. Why do you always have to bring stuff like that up? Dad's dead now. End of story. Why do you keep reliving it? Why would you want to do that to yourself?" Dean's rant ends. Sam is left running his hand through his hair.

"It's like a catharsis Dean. Talking about it. Not feeling trapped in silence anymore. You'll see. I know you'll feel better. I do." _Better._ Dean's head ran the word over and over again. It was the second time he said he was better. _Better than what?  
_  
"But, Sam you don't need therapy. There's nothing wrong with you. There was something wrong with Dad."

"There was something wrong with me Dean. I came to college I thought I got away from it all. But, I didn't. I had nightmares. A guy drinking whiskey got to close to me at a party and I decked him. I wasn't able to sleep at night. I kept thinking that I was gonna be woken up in the middle of the night getting dragged out of my bed by my ankles." That last part got to Dean. He sat next to Sam gripping firm but, not hard on his shoulder. Both of them lost for just a moment.

_Eight-year-old Sam hanging onto Dean for dear life waiting while their father turns the key in the lock. Smelling distinctly of whiskey he stands over the two, eying them. Sizing them up._ _He makes his decision and pulls off the motel comforter. He grabs Sam by the ankles and yanks him off the bed. Sam grasping hard for Dean. He can hear Dean pleading trying to reason with the man. But, John's mind was made up._

"It was bad. Really bad." Dean stares at Sam still unconvinced. Sam takes a deep breath. He promised himself he'd never do this. Exploit the worst moments of his life for gain. But, this was for his brother's gain too. He just had to remind himself of that. "I tried to kill myself, Dean." He hated the way his voice had come out. His eyes already welled with tears and he stole a quick glance to see Dean's eyes narrow with fury. Sam slowly rolled up his shirt sleeves. Letting Dean notice the near white scars on his arms from his wrist to his elbow. They're too perfect. Coming from Sam's years of training with knives. Sam is ashamed of them even now. Ashamed of not being strong enough.

"Now, why the hell would you go and do something as stupid as that?" Dean sounds pissed. But, he's grabbing Sam gently by his wrist and inspecting the old wounds like they're going to start bleeding at any moment again.

"I thought something was wrong with me. It felt like I was being haunted by the past. I thought... I thought I was never going to get better. But, I did. Therapy and a group Claudio holds once monthly for survivors. And now, I'm happy Brady found me when he did." Dean looked up at Sam questioning everything. Seeing his brother was in just as much pain as he feared.

"This therapy thing. It helped you?" Dean voice was scratchy. He was fighting back tears.

"Yeah" Sam's voice was so soft you could barely hear it.

"I guess we could squeeze it in while, I'm here." Dean wasn't looking at Sam. He didn't need to be to see the smile that crowded Sam's face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning Sexual Abuse nothing graphic.**

Dean's foot is restlessly tapping and he's humming Metallica. He looks around the office once more. And settles on staring at the clock. He's not certain if he'd rather time speed up or slow down. He's torn between wishing the therapy session will never start and wishing it was over with already. And it's certainly not helping that Sam's just reading a magazine, cool as a cucumber. Dean's wishing he could make an excuse to go to the bathroom again. But, he knows it's no use. His flask was empty last time he went. And it's not like booze is just gonna magically appear in it. Dean loses himself in the thought of magically renewing alcohol for a minute. Then he notices a smartly dressed woman in her mid-thirties comes down the hall. Sam glances up at her and immediately stands. And Dean's brain decides that he wished time would slow down once again. He's not ready for this. But, he stands and follows his little brother down the hall. And into an incredibly boring looking office. The official documents hang from the walls. The furniture is comfortably worn. There are fake potted plants everywhere. Sam sits on the couch and Dean hesitates thinking if he got to the impala now, he could be in New Mexico by tomorrow morning. But, Sam sensing Dean's hesitation is pulling puppy dog eyes. And well, fuck, it's not like Dean can deny him now. So he sits. The ficus next to him invading his personal space a little bit. Claudia sits down in a nice armchair a few feet away.

"Dean, I assume. It's so good to finally meet you." She's turning on a small tape recorder.

"I guess, I should say the same Doc." Dean's knee is still bobbing a little.

"I understand your father just passed. How are you dealing with that Sam?" She's cool and calm about the whole thing. Dean's starting to dislike her.

"The night Dean told me, we went and got drunk. Not the healthiest reaction I'm sure. But, I was torn between jumping for joy and crying. And hell, I just... I don't know." Dean stares at him.

"Okay Sam, why were you happy about his death?" Sam steals a sideways glance at Dean.

"Cause, he's gone. He can't hurt me or Dean anymore." Dean tenses a little at that.

"And why were you sad?" She makes a small note in her notebook. Dean shifts subtly to try and see what she's writing. But, he can't seem to get a good look.

"I'll never have closure. Even after all this time. In the back of my head, I thought I would get an apology from the man. Something that says he knows and understands how much pain he put us through." Dean sits back awkwardly. Normally he hates it when people talk like he's not in the room. But, today he's grateful. "But, now I'll never get that."

"And Dean you had to deliver this message. How are you feeling about it?" So much for being inconspicuous.

"I really didn't even want to tell him. He left this shit behind. Bobby made me come by. I don't understand why though. It's clear Sam hasn't wanted anything to do with the family for some time now." Sam looks back at him shocked. Dean's now trying very hard to read where the Doc. got her degree from.

"I didn't want anything to do with _him_, you're still my brother Dean." Dean narrows his eyes.

"Yeah, well we haven't spoken in the past four years. What did you expect?" Angry, Dean bites back.

"I couldn't contact you cause, I thought you were still with him. I couldn't take the chance of him finding out where I live." Dean nods. But, Sam suspects the message hasn't really sunk in.

"Okay Dean, but how did you feel about his passing?" Dean looks at her with a suspicious glance.

"Sucks, I guess. Even after everything. He's still our Dad." Sam turns back to Dean fuming.

"How can you say that?" Sam is boiling over with anger.

"Well, let's see the man raised us and provided for us on his own for eighteen years." Dean's trying hard to keep his voice steady and not match Sam's anger.

"No Dean you raised me." Sam said it so definitively.

"Do you really wanna have this fight. Again?" Dean wasn't sarcastic sounding. He just sounded tired and it was enough to make Sam relent. It was quiet for a moment. And although Claudia liked the direction the boys were going with in the session. But, she knew she only had Dean for this session and for it to be the most beneficial to Sam they were going to have to get into the thick of it.

"Dean there are a lot of reasons your here today, but I think we should ask Sam about topics he feels the need to discuss with you. Sam anything in particular? Remember this is a safe place." Dean gets a little green. Sam shifts in his seat.

"Uhm... Because of my age at the time... I have trouble remembering..." Sam clears his throat. _Why are you freaking out now. You've told this story half a dozen times_. _Just say the word. He was there it's not like you're gonna freak him out. _"You know the first time."

"Dean, maybe you could fill us in on your perspective from the first time that Sam was raped." Claudia says helpfully. She's shocked. Sam has made so much progress, he had no problem telling the survivors group about the abuse. And now with the inclusion of Dean he seems reluctant to even say the word rape. It seems like such backsliding. Perhaps it was for his brother's benefit. Claudia did catch the older boy flinch if only slightly when she said it.

"I don't know you gonna kiss me first sweetheart?" Dean's comment was halfway between being a joke and being cruel. No one said anything. "Well fuck!" Dean's hand scrubs his face. Sam sits closer to the edge of the couch as Dean leans all the way back. It's reminiscent of the times they did this in motel rooms. Dean sitting up straight against the headboard while Sam would sit Indian style in the middle of the bed. Dean staring into the shaggy mess of hair. Dean tries to focus there to make it easier. But, it isn't.

"You were six and I was ten and it was maybe two-ish maybe three months before my birthday. And we were in the suite kind of motel. It had a tiny kitchen and a two bedrooms. And you had started First Grade not that long ago. And I kept trying to convince you that everyone else was born knowing how to add and subtract and that you only had to learn cause you were dumb. And Dad was in his bedroom drinking up a storm. And he came to the doorway and just stood there for a while. And I thought he was watching me, and I should've just went to him. But, I kept hoping that maybe he was too tired or that he had whiskey dick or something." Dean had to stop. He didn't realize how bad his head was swimming. He forced himself to focus. Something to keep him from drowning in the memories. He ripped up part of the fake ficus sitting next to him. He didn't need anything else invading his space. It was a small movement pulling out a couple of the silk leaves one at a time. Claudia almost told him to stop, but thought better of it.

"He called your name." Dean's voice broke with that. Sam winced he vaguely remembers this part. "And I told him no. He had me, he didn't need you. He could do whatever he wanted to me, but to leave you alone just for tonight. It worked before." Sam was shocked. He thought that night was the first time his father had ever even suggested Sam.

"Dean? How many times did you give him that offer before that night?" Sam hated himself for asking. It was just going to bring more guilt on himself.

"Ten maybe fifteen times." Sam tensed. His brother bore more of the burden than he had ever realized. "The point is it didn't work that night. And he was taking you to the bedroom and you were just okay with it. You didn't know what was back there. Maybe if I had warned you, you could've run and hid. I just didn't want you to... You were just a little kid Sam, and I didn't want to ruin that." Sam's heart aches at the sound of his brother's voice. He gets the sneaking suspicion that this might be Dean's worst memory as well as his own. "And then I attacked him. I hit him, bit him, kicked him. I full on tried to fight him. And then you were scared."

"At that point the only other person I ever saw you hit, was that bully who stole my lunch money." Sam remembered being terrified once Dean started fighting. He had been so confused. Dean nodded but he wasn't listening. His pulse was in his ear and it was impossible to hear anything. He forgot why he even nodded. It's not like Sam can see him from his position. But, he remembers the therapist sitting in front of him. Suddenly he doesn't want to continue. She wasn't there. It's not like she could ever know what they were feeling. He hated her, with her cheap suit and her patronizing look of pity. But, he stared at the back of Sam's head. Noticed Sam tugging at his shirt sleeves. Remembered how badly his brother needed this. If Dean couldn't help him then he sure as hell was going to help him now.

"And he picked me up and threw me halfway across the room. I got that nasty bump on my head from the bedside table. And before I could even blink he grabbed you and locked his door. And I tried..." Tears were streaming down Dean's face now. Miserable about his failure. His brother's pain. "I tried to keep you safe Sam. I tried so fucking hard. You gotta believe me." Dean's pleading. His voice dissolves into the air. He sounds so broken, so unfamiliar to Sam's ears. And it's raining indoors on Sam, which confuses him. Until he notices that he's crying heavily but, he can't feel his own face to recognize that fact.

"I know Dean, I believe you." Sam says it so softly. His throat is in too much pain. Trying to stop himself from sobbing.

"I tried to break down the door. I was kicking and pounding. But, I just wasn't strong enough. I was screaming. I threw a goddamn temper tantrum, at ten years old." Dean laughed, but it sounded so hollow that Sam would've rather it if he didn't. "And I don't know how much time passed. But, you came out. He practically threw you at me. You were only wearing your boxers and you were crying so hard." Dean's breath is coming out short and ragged. He wonders darkly if one can have physical pain from a memory. "And I kept trying to get you to move. But, you couldn't walk cause it hurt too much." Sam grimaced at the memory. "So, I picked you up to take you to bed. And my hand was wet. You were bleeding through your shorts, Sammy. So, I took you to the bathroom. And I kept talking to you. Hell, I don't remember what I was saying half the time."

"You kept telling me that once I had a bath, I'd feel cleaner." Sam is trying to sound calm. No one is buying it.

"I ran you a bath. And I had to take your shorts off to get you in there. And you tried to stop me." And Dean loses it.

_Six-year-old Sam face red and streaked with tears that are still falling. Dean's holding him lightly trying to pull his boxers off. Sam screams and cries grabbing them trying to keep them in place. 'No more, no more, please.' Dean stills himself. He has to clean the blood up. 'It's okay Sammy. It's just me here. Dean, your brother. I'll never hurt you Sammy. I promise.' Sam doesn't let go. Dean strengthening his resolve he yanks at them again. And Sam is tired and weak and they fall out of his grasp. 'No.' It's a begging whisper._Dean jabs the heels of his palms into his eyes. Anything to stop this memory. Sam's softly sobbing next to him. And eighteen years later it stills sounds the same. But, Dean has to be strong for his brother. For Sammy.

"I gave you a bath. I cleaned you up. And I put you to bed. I told you it would all be better when you woke up." Dean's swallowing the lump in his throat and he's coming off as almost cold now. "Dad made up pancakes the next day for breakfast. But, you were afraid of him. And I kept yelling at him. So, he put two hundred dollars down on the table and left for the week. He stopped apologizing after that. Probably figured there's no use in lying if no one will believe you." Another revelation that shocks Sam. He didn't know his father ever apologized for what he did. He wonders what else he missed. Story time being over Sam tries to compose himself. He wipes at his tears which are falling sparsely now, but not stopping.

"Sammy, I'm so sorry." Dean reaches out and grips Sam's shoulder firmly. Sam turns from his position and sweeps Dean into a hug that catches him off guard. Dean pats Sam on the back a few times. "It's okay Sammy. It's over now." Sam lets go and goes back to his position.

Claudia clears her throat. Both boys look up at her surprised. It wasn't so much that they forgot she was there. It's that they forgot they were there. Getting caught up in the vacuum of their memories. Her eyes look tired but not teary. Her professionalism getting the best of her. "Sam," she's speaking gently. "Did you get what you needed out of that?"

"Yeah," Sam shakes his head. Finally stopping the tears. He wipes his face with his shirt sleeve. "I finally have all the pieces now."

"Like that's a good thing." Dean snorts.

"It's hard getting over something, when you're not entirely sure what happened to begin with." Sam's angry. Dean just shrugs him off.

"So, we done here Doc?" Dean gets ready to stand-up.

"Not quite, we have still have a good deal of time. And your relationship with Sam is incredibly complicated and I'm sure there are more things you two could work on." Dean settles back down. Giving a quick once over the therapist.

"So, what do you got for me Sammy?" Dean rests his arms behind his head relaxed and cocky. Daring Sam to upset him. To make him cry like a girl again. But, Sam knows their next topic. And it's not a pleasant one. He takes a deep breath.

"I wanna talk about the fight we had, two weeks before you turned eighteen." Sam tenses. Ready for Dean to punch him, like he had that night.

"Not, talking about that." Dean's demeanor has changed in an instant. His fists clench at his sides.

"Dean, just hear me out. I want to apologize. Explain myself." Sam is nervous. He's talking just a little too quickly and tripping over his words. He doesn't like remembering this fight. His guilt is pouring off him in waves. But, he doesn't think Dean can tell. Dean's focused on his anger. Narrowing his rage to a pinpoint. If sheer anger could hurt people, everyone in a three block radius would be dead. Dean's using everything he has to contain himself.

"I heard your apologies Sam. I accepted them. We moved on. We're not talking about it." Dean raises his voice, trying to speak through gritted teeth.

"You clearly hold it against me. You can't even talk about it." Sam is matching Dean's volume. And Dean is standing in an instant. Holding the collar of Sam's shirt. Fist raised and pulled back.

"I am five seconds away from decking you. Change. The. Subject." He's yelling. Sam's ears can barely contain what they're hearing.

"Hit me, take a swing. If it'll make you feel better." Sam's trying to sound calm, resigned. But, he does remember how hard Dean can throw a punch and he's hoping not to regret this decision. He heard it before he felt it. The sound of hard skin to skin contact. Then the ringing in his ears. The immense pain busting through his left cheek. Sam lets out a small groan as he grabs his cheek.

"Next topic." Dean's sits. He feels mildly guilty. He had held back a little. After all it's not like he could go around breaking his little brother's bones. But, fuck why in the world would Sam want to talk about _that_ fight. _To apologize, right_. You don't apologize over shit like that. You forget it and move on.

"I cannot condone violence, in my office." Claudia is a little nervous to be speaking. Sam himself has had some really angry outbursts in her office. But, she was never afraid of him. She couldn't say the same of Dean. "This is supposed to be a safe place." Dean snorts. "Samuel, I think it may be best if we end the session here for today." Sam looks up heartbroken. There was so much more he needed to say. Claudia caught that look. "Dean, if you are still in town next week. And if you can handle your anger in a more constructive way, you are welcome back."

"Yeah, we'll see." Dean's up and out the door before Claudia can even finish speaking. Sam gives her an apologetic look and follows Dean. Dean grabs a handful of candy off of the receptionist's desk as he walks past. Shoving it in his pocket not slowing down at all. Sam follows him out the door and into the parking lot and stands in front of the driver's side of the Impala. Dean makes a small move to go around him, but Sam's overwhelming mass stops that from happening. "What?" It's not as angry as Sam expected it to be. It's much more defeated and tired sounding.

"Are you..." Sam didn't really know what he wanted to say. He just knew he needed Dean to calm down. His mouth grasped openly at words for a few seconds. "Where are we going?" Seemed as good a question as any.

"Well, I'm gonna drop you off at your apartment." Sam's heart stopped. Dean was gonna leave. Dean always told Sam that he would never leave, and now when Sam really wanted Dean around, he was going to leave. Go back to New Mexico, probably only going to call Sam when Bobby died. "Then, I'm gonna hit up a bar, and try to catch me a coed." Sam let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. And he laughed a small cathartic laugh. _Dean will always be, Dean._


End file.
